


We're On Fire

by parka_girl



Category: Topp Dogg (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Khiphop, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-05-01 00:47:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5185826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parka_girl/pseuds/parka_girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yoongi meets Hojoon on a bus on day on the way home from work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're On Fire

**Author's Note:**

> All mistakes are my own.

Yoongi stands at the bus stop, waiting. It's raining and his snapback is the only thing keeping the rain off his glasses. He pulls his coat tighter around himself, willing the bus to come faster. He wants to be home, out of the rain, with a cup of coffee and his laptop. He has rap lyrics running through his head and he wants to write them down before he forgets. Before the moment passes. Then the bus pulls up, interrupting his thoughts. He gets in line behind the rest of the people, waiting in the rain. They're all damp and the bus smells like wet coats. 

There are plenty of empty seats and Yoongi selects one in the middle, by the window. He doesn't do anything but stare out the window as the rain makes patterns on the glass. The scenery is just a blur of lights and water, as evening sinks in around Yoongi, the bus. 

The bus grows more crowded as it rolls, getting closer to Yoongi's stop and further from his soul sucking job. With five stops left, Yoongi looks up, watching people get on and off. In the midst of all the raincoat-clad people, a boy in a hoodie and wet hair steps on. His glasses are wet, too, and for a moment Yoongi is distracted by the idea that this boy is operating blind. But he watches as the glasses come off, cleaned off by a seemingly dry bandana as the boy waits for the people in front of him to find seats. 

The boy's face is something beautiful and it replaces all the rap lyrics in Yoongi's head with love songs. The boy glances in Yoongi's direction, sees the open seat and takes it. They don't talk to each other, but Yoongi's mind is already singing lyrics to songs he'll never write. His fingers are almost twitching with the need to write. He wishes they had a longer time on the bus and that he had his notebook with him. He settles for not looking at the boy, except for his reflection in the window. He can't tell if the other boy is watching him, but Yoongi pretends he is. 

Then, all too soon, it's his stop. Yoongi stands and the boy does, too, getting out of his way. Yoongi risks one look back, over his shoulder. The boy is watching him. Yoongi tries not to shiver or look back at the bus as it pulls away. Instead, he shoulders his backpack and rushes home, ignoring the falling rain. 

The next day he looks for the boy on the bus, but he's not there. Yoongi repeats this process for three days. On the fourth, the boy shows up. Same stop as before. Yoongi looks at all the empty seats, but the boy meets his gaze as soon as he steps on and picks the empty seat next to Yoongi. They continue to say nothing to each other. 

Yoongi gets off first and doesn't try to stop his lingering looks, even as the bus pulls away. This process repeats itself for two weeks. Yoongi scribbles away at the notebook he's always carrying ever since that rainy day on the bus. The boy listens to music, giant headphones on his head. But when they see each other, they both smile and Yoongi doesn't know why. Or, no, he knows why he smiles, just not why the boy does. It's not like they talk or even know each other's names. 

A month of silences and seat sharing, even when most of the bus is empty, passes and Yoongi feels happier than he has in a long time. His lyrics still twist with the depression he's always battling, but there's something else, a tinge of hope and love. He tries to pretend it's not because of the boy, but it is. Of course it is. His crew doesn't ask, they just encourage him. 

And then one evening, after work, he's running late. He misses his usual bus, the one he's shared with the boy for over a month. He boards the bus, looking out in the darkness, night having fallen an hour before. It's colder now, snow on the horizon he thinks as he looks at his phone. He shivers, wishing he'd brought a scarf. He wraps his arms around himself and stares out the window. He doesn't even look up when the bus stops at the boy's stop. 

But then the seat next to him dips a little and Yoongi turns, startled. The boy is there, looking a little bit sheepish. Yoongi rubs his face, knocking his glasses askew. He'd been too tired for contacts, unlike the boy. Before Yoongi can adjust his glasses, the boy reaches out and gently straightens them out. Yoongi's barely breathing. 

"Were you waiting for me?" He whispers, his voice barely audible even to himself. 

The boy nods. "I got on, saw you weren't here …" 

Yoongi swallows, not trusting himself to speak, but eventually the boy's silence forces him to pull himself together. "An hour." He manages. 

The boy nods again, looking away. Yoongi reaches out, touching his arm. The boy looks back. 

"Why?" Yoongi's voice is so quiet, he can't help it. 

The boy shrugs, there's an answer there, written on his face. It makes Yoongi's heart stutter. It makes the world seem to spin a little, around them. 

Yoongi's stop is closer than he remembered. He stands. The boy stands, then steps out of the way. Yoongi is halfway toward the doors when he turns. The boy is watching him. Yoongi wants to ask him to come home with him, but he doesn't. He just keeps turning back, all the way until the bus is out of sight. 

The next day is Friday. Yoongi has the weekend free to angst. He is off work on time today. He still feels bad that the boy had waited for him for an hour. He feels bad that it also makes him happy. The feelings crash through him, alternatingly and distractingly. The bus is crowded and his seat is taken when he gets on. There are no free seats and the bus only seems to fill as they crawl along the roads. 

The boy's stop arrives and Yoongi can see him, pushing his way through the people. Yoongi watches as the boy's eyes search the seats and he waits, biding his time. And then their gazes meet through the sea of bodies. The boy grins and it lights up his face. They're both in glasses again, like the first time. The boy weaves his way through the crowds until they're face to face. 

Someone pushes into the boy's back, pressing him into Yoongi. Looking at him, Yoongi breathes in and the boy smells good. Like a fresh shower or something equally lame and romantic. The boy is looking up at him. The bus lurches forward and their hands, both clutching the metal pole nearby, brush. The boy doesn't move his hand away. 

Yoongi's stop is next and it interrupts whatever they have going on between them. Yoongi lets his hand fall from the pole. But then, on a whim, he reaches out and curls his fingers around the boy's wrist. The bus stops and Yoongi starts pushing his way through the people, toward the door. He can feel the boy's wrist in his hand, he's not pulling free. He's coming with Yoongi. 

Once outside, Yoongi self-consciously drops the boy's hand. They stand, not talking, at the bus stop, people walking on either side of them. Yoongi feels like he's in a drama, but pulls himself together (again, he seems to always be doing that). 

"Would you like, um …" He trails off. 

The boy is watching him, grinning a little. "Yes." He answers, to whatever it is that Yoongi hasn't offered yet. 

Yoongi just nods, not trusting himself to speak again. The butterflies in his stomach are flapping all over the place. He starts walking, just trusting the boy to follow, and he does. A few minutes of silent walking later and they're at the front of Yoongi's building. He holds the door open and then leads the way up to his third floor flat. It's nothing special, he thinks as he unlocks the door. He holds it open for the boy, who steps inside. 

They stand in Yoongi's tiny foyer. The boy's glasses are slightly askew and Yoongi reaches out, straightening them as the boy did to him. Before he can pull his hand back, the boy reaches out and grabs his wrist. A flick of the boy's wrist and he's pulling at Yoongi and then they're kissing. Yoongi's mouth finding the boy's without hesitation. The boy, though shorter, is pushing him up against the door to his flat. He's dropped Yoongi's hand, having moved his own up to frame Yoongi's face. 

The boy's mouth is hot on Yoongi's, his skin smooth against Yoongi's fingers which find themselves under the hem of his t-shirt. One of the boy's hands is his hair now, twisting his fingers and kissing Yoongi deeper. All the tension he'd felt earlier, the worries about the boy waiting, about not seeing him on the bus, they fade away until they're gone. 

The boy pulls back for a second. "Hojoon." He whispers, before leaning in, kissing Yoongi again. Tugging at his lower lip with his teeth, sucking a little before kissing him again. 

Yoongi is breathless. He deepens the kiss a little, his fingers scraping lightly at Hojoon's back. Hojoon. The name repeats itself over and over in his head. The boy is Hojoon. Hojoon is the boy. 

"Yoongi." He says, the word, his name, tumbling out into Hojoon's mouth. 

Hojoon grins now, pulling back just enough so he can look at Yoongi. "Yoongi." He repeats. 

Yoongi fights a smile. "Hojoon." He says, his voice soft, but not quiet. And then Hojoon is kissing him again and Yoong's kissing him back.


End file.
